Fallen Lords
by Gwyphyn
Summary: The Greek God of sentinels is forced, crippled by the lack of a Guide, is forced to risk everything for one he has always longed for but never met. Yet at the same time, he uncovers a foul plot that would not only destroy Zeus' pantheon but the human wor
1. First There Was One

IN THE BEGINNING, THERE WAS ONE.  
  
Ares, the god of war, sent his younger brother a broad grin as Athena continued to pace in front of the dais the two male gods were currently perched on. James, known as Jim to his family, god of sentinels and guardians, returned the broad grin with a scowl as soon as the ranting goddess of wisdom turned away.  
  
"...after all Jim." The goddess in question continued, whirling round to point an accusing finger at the powerfully muscled god, sprawled in the larger of the two thrones resting on the dais. "He is your responsibility!"  
  
Crossing his leather clad legs Ares settled in comfortably to watch the promising entertainment. Athena could be amazingly protective of those sworn to her service, but then the same could be said, if to a lesser extent, of Jim. Unfortunately James, for all that he was one of the more shrewd of the gods in matters of war fare and other such matters, considerably lacked his elder sister's acid tongue and extensive vocabulary, and as a result, was often left floundering, trying to figure out whether or not he had been insulted in the middle of one of her intellectually phrased tirades.  
  
Straightening, James ran a hand through his thick, shoulder length hair and made an obvious effort to be patient. "Thena, he needs a guide..." He began, but was cut off by the irate goddess.  
  
"So he decides to procure one by kidnapping one of my best Shaman's?" Athena threw up her hands in disbelief. "What happened to those precious rules of yours? Didn't you forbid sentinels to obtain their guides through forced bonding since that farce of a war between Megara and Thrace?"  
  
Ares smirked as he watched James' face darken angrily. Oh yes this was going to be fun.  
  
Prince Ivatore, the youngest son of the Queen of Megara, had been kidnapped by Princess Lyonesse of Thrace, an extremely powerful sentinel, on his eighteenth birthday. It seemed that the Princess, having come to the reluctant conclusion that bonding with a guide was inevitable, had decided that only a guide of royal blood was worthy. Discovering that there was only one such possible guide who fit the required criteria, she had then set about ensuring that there was no challenge to her claim by simply keeping him isolated and forcing the bond. The princess had not been a foolish woman, a devoted follower of Aprodite she had achieved her goal using the most effective means available to her. Seduction. The shameless and skilled welding of her natural weapons left Ivatore defenceless. The poor prince, a slave to his raging hormones and the princess's persuasive seductions, decided he was in love and eagerly bonded.  
  
Unfortunately for the young lovers, the Queen of Megara did not approve of the method by which Princess Lyonesse had obtained her son, and had marched her armies across Greece to Thrace. The result was two decades of war between the two powerful nations. A war which had threatened to spill over into the neighbouring cities until, in a rare display of unity James, Athena and Ares had put an end to it. Ares by the simple expenditure of marching onto the battle field and taking the head of the two Generals on either side. Athena by simply pointing out that Ivatore and Lyonesse had been bonded for almost twenty years and had three sons, so it was not likely that Ivatore would have appreciated being rescued, and James by swearing that such a bonding would never happen again. Yet now it seemed that that sacred vow was in danger of being boycotted.  
  
"Just how," James demanded heatedly. "Do you manage to bring up the Megara-Thrace war, every time you want to blame me for something?"  
  
"That is hardly the point James. What I wish to inquire is what you propose to do about this unfortunate mishap, before I march the combined armies of Athens to your miscreant sentinels gate, politely demolish them and recover my missing shaman at spear point!"  
  
Arching an eyebrow, Ares snorted. 'Not likely, sister-dear.' That sort of military accomplishment would require the God of war's approval. As it was, he was stretched too thin keeping an eye on the three wars he was guiding at the moment. But he prudently kept the observation to himself. Athena was far to volatile at the moment to risk turning her onto himself.  
  
"Threats Athena? That's not like you. You usually prefer to fight your battles with twisted logic and dubious deals." James shot back, automatically bristling at the threat. Like the sentinels who prayed to him, the god of sentinels did not respond well to threats. His usual, and admittedly effective, method of dealing with them was the instant annulation of the person or persons foolish enough to make it. Not willing to try anything like that with Athena, James resorted to anger. Ares sighed. Sometimes he was just so predictable.  
  
Climbing the dais steps until she stood in front of the younger god, Athena's eyes narrowed dangerously. "James, I don't care how you do it. Slaughter the sentinel for all I care. But I want my Shaman back, safe at my temple in Athens, before the winter solace celebrations."  
  
Standing so fast he forced the goddess to take a step backward or overbalance, James crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at her. "Or what?" He asked, his voice filled with the panthers growl which was his alternate form.  
  
Ares sat up straight in surprise. Rarely, if ever, did James allow the panther which shared his spirit to make its presence known. It was a ominous and unique gift. One that even among the varied talents and often dangerous abilities of the gods, inspired unease. For him to do so now, when dealing with a sister, was more then a little unsettling.  
  
For a moment Athena appeared disgruntled, then her normal, superior personality reasserted itself. "Or I will return to retrieve him myself, and take my displeasure out on his god as well as the sentinel." With that, the goddess of knowledge tapped the taller man on the cheek with her spear and disappeared in a flash of blue light.  
  
'Well that went well.' Ares decided sardonically, returning to his relaxed sprawl in the smaller of the two thrones upon the dais. Glancing at his favourite relative, Ares nodded in approval as he saw him making his way to the huge arched window which served as his scrying pool into the mortal realm.  
  
Studying his brother, Ares sighed thoughtfully. Christened 'the lone wolf' because of his solitary nature, James was a strikingly handsome man in a race which valued physical beauty as much as mortals valued wealth. Fierce sapphire eyes and chiselled features were surrounded by waves of dark brown hair reaching to just below his shoulder blades. Over six feet in height and encased entirely in leather, his almost feline grace was complimented perfectly by a powerful, muscular form. Though in his temple he was unarmed with physical weapons, Ares could easily make out the worn spots on his belt where his sword, a bejewelled wonder which had been a gift from Hephaestus himself, usually hung, and the broad expanse of his back looked oddly bare without its customary quiver of arrows.  
  
With a gentle wave of his hand, the glass in the window began to shimmer, reminding Ares of the way starlight would reflect off of gently moving water. Unable to see the scenes being displayed to the younger god, Ares heaved himself out of the throne and made his way to the hidden alcove behind the dais, which lead into James' private quarters.  
  
Spying the feast spread out on the ornate oak table which took up most of the space in the room, Ares grinned and made his way towards it, trying unsuccessfully to dismiss the lingering unease that hearing the panthers growl in James' voice had evoked.   
  
In the mortal realm, humans which developed the highly heightened senses of sight, hearing, touch, smell and taste were known as sentinels. Male or female, these warriors seemed genetically predisposed to a life of solitude, happiest when they were able to spend their time protecting and caring for the communities which made up their 'tribes'. A sentinel who's territory or a member of their tribe was threatened, was a dangerous individual who would do whatever they considered necessary to eliminate the threat. Ignoring all danger to themselves in the process.  
  
Like Zeus and his fixation for woman, these fierce guardians of the people did have a weakness. A death like state which could only be explained as a zone-out, a condition where a sentinel's focus on one of their senses was so great that they lost themselves in it. Forgetting themselves and whatever might be happening around them altogether, delving deeper and deeper to the point where they would be unable to return. A sentinel in this state could only ever be retrieved and helped by their Guides,   
  
Eternal companions and often bondmates, guide's were their sentinels anchor, a buffer for their senses which without they were unable to function. A Guide's heartbeat was a focus for their sentinels exceptional hearing, their uncomplicated smell a focus for their keen noses. The comforting touch of a guides hand enough to pull them from the deepest sensory overload, the familiar sight of their guides face a tranquil mooring for their eyes and their sacred flavour a soothing balm for their sense of taste.  
  
Plucking a large ripe apple from the heavily laden table, Ares, not for the first time, felt a twinge of worry for the only brother he could realistically call a friend. At just over four hundred years old, James was young when compared to the bulk of their fellow gods. Ares himself was almost three thousand years his senior, and Zeus and Hera twice that. And for all his life, James had never had a guide.   
  
Taking a large bite, Ares managed to dismiss his worrying thoughts long enough to enjoy the fruits full flavour. But all to soon, they returned, and with a sigh, he lowered himself into one of the padded wooden chairs surrounding the table. While at first the fact that James had never found a guide, even though Apollo had been definite that he some day would, had never caused anyone alarm. After all, he was a god and they did not need anyone. In the last year or so, it had become increasingly obvious to the entire pantheon, that the god of sentinels and guardians was becoming escalatingly less able to function. Indeed it had already reached the point that Artemis, James' foster mother, had insisted that he be continually supervised by another god, something that James had rebelled against violently.  
  
The fact of the matter was that James desperately needed a guide. But more then that, he needed a guide that could take on the added responsibilities which would accompany becoming the guide to the god of sentinels himself. Simply put, James' future guide was destined to become a god himself. God of guides and path-finders, guardian of those who's calling was to protect the protectors of the people.  
  
Snorting derisively over the almost romantic turn his thoughts had taken, Ares tossed the apple core over his shoulder. James would no doubt be occupied with the scrying window for sometime, it would be a shame to waste all the work the savants had done. Pulling his chair closer to the table, he began to eat.  
  
~*~  
  
Stepping away from the large window which was his looking glass into the mortal realm, James groaned and wearily rubbed his eyes.  
  
'Damn Athena, couldn't she ever be wrong?' Swearing mentally, he gazed out at the darkening sky over Olympus. Sartes had indeed kidnapped the youth in question, and was even now trying to initiate the bonding which would merge their two souls into one. But why this man? What made the young Shaman so important that Sartes, a powerful chieftain and a previous favourite of James', would risk the anger of his god to claim him? An even more important question was; how, by Gaea, was he going to rectify the situation without alerting Zeus and the rest of the Olympians?  
  
Though mortals often bemoaned the riddles and convoluted way in which their gods generally answered their prayers and questions, there was actually a very good reason for it. A gods word, once given to a mortal, was unbreakable. To try and do so was to bring down the wrath of the universe itself. One of Athena's more popular theories was that this consequence was the price the gods paid for their greater power. The inability to outright lie to their followers was one of the oldest precedents, older then even Uranus, the grandfather of Zeus, himself. And now it looked as though he was to be a victim of this dangerous curse. Either he rescued his sisters precious little shaman in time for her party, or he let the universe tear his atoms apart one by one until there was nothing left of him.  
  
The decision, while easy, was not comforting.  
  
He would have to go secretly he decided, though not without relish, and try to remain undetected for as long as possible by the other gods. The constant infighting between the family was immediately tossed aside as soon as one of them came under any real threat, and the mere thought of Aprodite sticking her lacquered claws into this mess had him shuddering.  
  
Watching as the last of the suns rays disappeared below the horizon, James turned back into his home temple while he was on Olympus. He seldom spent much time here, preferring his solitary hideaway, located deep in the thick rainforest of a uninhabited part of a large continet. But thanks to his foster mother's well-meaning, but irksome, interference he had been virtually imprisoned in it for the last six months.  
  
Though the temple was extremely comfortable, made out of marble which varied in shades from pale snowy white, to pitch black, and designed to offer the heightened senses of it resident god the most peace he could find outside of a guides aid, he was going stir crazy. Feelings of loneliness and segregation constantly hampered him. Even answering the prayers of his followers, his own personal tribe, was unable to do anything to elevate the dead feeling which seemed to be filling his heart. Watching his sentinels with their guides had become a painful experience which he had been avoiding more and more as time past. To understand, watch and want the same thing himself, while knowing that the chance of doing so would never come, was an agony he would not wish on even his worst enemy. Yet now he was trapped within his temple, and forcibly reminded of this fact every time he opened his eyes.  
  
The main reason for that occurrence could easily be seen by anyone who entered the temple. Unlike the temples of his fellow gods, his had two thrones resting on the dais which was the main focal point of any temple. The larger one was in the shape of a rearing black panther, the bottom legs of the cat forming the seat, the cats stomach was the back rest with the panthers front legs reaching out over the head of the seated person, but it was the head of the cat which drew the watchers attention. Sapphire blue eyes sparkled out of a ebony metal, worked so finely that it left the impression of fur. The powerful jaws were opened in a vicious snarl, revealing white teeth and a pink tong. The creators skill was phenomenal.  
  
The second, smaller throne, deceptively appeared to be a simple square throne, but anyone with even the slightest magical ability, could easily make out the swirls and symbols covering the entire surface. They glowed softly, seeming to shimmer every colour of the rainbow with the powerful energies which had been used in the throne's creation. It was a pair to his own throne and destined to belong to his guide. If that one was ever discovered and sat in it, it would take on the form of their spirit animal as James' did. It was Zeus's final test. Designed to protect the son he and his wife had abandoned during their own petty bickering.   
  
And James was forced to look at the eternal reminder of his loneliness every day.  
  
Scowling, James forced the unproductive emotions away. They were not going to be able to help him with his current problem and so there was no use dwelling on them, they did not matter. Happy that he was once again in control of himself, he strode towards the curtained off alcove which lead to his private chambers.   
  
He could sense Ares' presence in the main chamber and felt his bad mood begin to disperse, as his keen nose picked up the appetising smells of dinner. Quickening his pace as his stomach made him aware of its dissatisfied state, James joined his elder brother at the large oak table and began to prepare himself a large plate. Settling himself in one of the comfortably padded oak chairs, he purposely ignored the curious look the god of war sent him. It was a little known fact that Ares was as curious as a child about almost everything, and had a childes attention span to go with it.   
  
Taking a large bite of superbly cooked lamb, James made appropriate noises of appreciation, thoroughly enjoying tormenting the older god.  
  
Finally, Ares was unable to handle the silence any longer. "Well?" He demanded. "Was the 'Queen Of Heaven' right, or was she actually wrong for once?"  
  
Slowly swallowing, James shook his head and sat back. "I wish. No she was right of course. Sartes has the boy and is currently holding him at his stronghold."  
  
Ares appeared as surprised by who the kidnapper was, as James himself had been. "So what are you planning to do?"  
  
"What can I do trapped here?" James replied blandly, returning to his meal.  
  
Ares grinned, not fooled for an instant. "I take it I'll be sleeping deeply tonight?"  
  
James' answering smile was full of lewd promise. "It will be my solemn duty to exhaust you."  
  
~*~  
  
Simon sighed in lazy contentment as he gathered his golden haired lover close. Happy just to be held, Apollo snuggled even closer, nuzzling into the immortals neck.  
  
"I wish I could go with you." He whispered softly. Almost hoping to be unheard, but knowing it to be futile. Simon's sentinel abilities were stronger then any other sentinel currently alive.  
  
Gently, the fingertips of the other man's hand stroked their way down his back, from his shoulders to the small of his back, before making their way up once more.  
  
"Your beauty would stand out like a diamond in mud, my love." Simon teased gently and was rewarded by the faint blush staining the fair skin of his lover's cheekbones.  
  
"You are just saying that because you're biased."  
  
"I'm just saying that because I'm an honest person." Simon corrected gently, leaning down to taste the already kiss swollen lips of his love.  
  
"Mmmm..." Returning the kiss with abandon, the god of light, prophecy, truth and music, stretched up and wrapped his arms around the taller mans neck. Wiggling so that he lay astride Simon's hips, he was just about to make things even more interesting, when an intrusive presence filled the room.  
  
"Jaaaaammmes!" He complained, hanging onto his lover's neck as the bigger man pushed himself into a sitting position.  
  
Without relinquishing his two armed grip on his lover, Apollo turned his head to glare dangerously at his foster son. Perched on the window sill with the sheer, white curtains billowing around him, the younger god was a gorgeous, but unwelcome intrusion.  
  
James countered the glare with a look of injured innocence. "There was no need to stop on my account, I was perfectly willing to wait."  
  
A large hand inserting itself into Apollo's thick, golden curls, Simon snorted. "So what is this dire emergency we have to sneak down to earth to solve?" He asked calmly, dismissing the fact that he was currently naked with his lover curled around him possessively.  
  
James' expression immediately became grim. "The Warlord Sartes, is attempting to force a bonding with a young shaman he kidnapped from a temple of Athena's."  
  
Simon gasped in shock, tightening his arms around Apollo instinctively. Immediately his guide's embrace altered from possessive to comforting, as the youthful appearing god set about assuring his sentinel that he was safe, and where he belonged.  
  
No one had been more surprised then James, when Apollo had bonded to the mortal sentinel, over ninety years ago. Accompanied by Simon, a former slave he had freed during one of his many forays into the mortal realm, he had returned to Olympus, only to be greeted by the sun god. The big man had taken one long, intense look at the radiantly beautiful youth and fallen head over heels. This itself was not really surprising. Apollo had been having the same effect, on almost everyone he met ever since James had been a child. What had been surprising was that Apollo, who had almost as many paramours, of both sexes, as Zeus did, had been equally effected by the tall, dark skinned sentinel.  
  
Taking Apollo's hand, Simon had been about to kiss the slender fingers in greeting, when both human and god had been struck helpless as a bond began to form almost instantly, the hither to unrealised guide instinct in the older god surprising everyone with its sudden emergence. Before James had a chance to do more then gasp, stunned, Apollo had wisked the human sentinel to his secret hideaway, located somewhere near the city of Rhodes. Where they remained completely unreachable for three months. Only the fact that the sun had continued to rise and set had reassured James that his foster father was alive.  
  
The next anyone had seen of them, after three months of isolation, had been when they suddenly appeared in James' temple, demanding that he go with them to see Zeus because they wanted to make Simon immortal.  
  
Satisfied that his sentinel was once again calm, Apollo sat back and glared at the son he and his twin sister, Artemis had taken and raised as their own. James met his gaze unflinchingly.  
  
"How did this Sartes manage to kidnap the man without you knowing?" He demanded. Eyes flashing in annoyance, he tried to cling briefly when his lover gently lifted him off his lap onto the bed. Tenderly ruffling his curls, Simon pulled away.  
  
"Unlike the dear parents of my heart, I don't have a legion of muses or ocean nymphs to keep track of my followers when I'm made a prisoner in my own temple!" James shot back darkly.  
  
Beside the large bed, Simon was pulling on his well worn brown travelling leathers. "So what's the plan?" The big man asked, deliberately keeping his head down to avoid the unhappy emerald gaze of his lover. "Apart from sneaking out of Olympus with our tails between our legs."  
  
James grinned. "Stephen is meeting us at a small village about a day and a halfs travels from Sartes' strong hold. Hopefully he will be able to act as a guide for both of us while we're there."  
  
Simon looked at him in concern, pulling his already packed saddle bags out from under the bed. "He still hasn't bonded?"  
  
James felt his grin fade as he thought of his young half brother. "Guides don't need to bond like sentinels do, so he's all right."  
  
"Didn't you say Brown and Rafe were going with you as well?" Apollo asked curiously. That sentinel and guide pairing were nearly legendary among the Olympians.  
  
James' sombre expression returned to its broad grin at the mention of the former thief and his guide. Taking that as his answer, Apollo pulled himself out from the tangle of blankets and padded, gracefully to where Simon had joined James by the window.  
  
Ignoring James, who had dramatically clutched his heart, and was pretending to swoon at the sight of his naked body, the god of light stretched up to wrap both arms around his lover's neck. Pressing the full length of his body against Simon's, he shivered at the feel of soft leather against his skin, as the taller man's arms wrapped tightly around him.  
  
"Be careful beloved." He ordered, sentinel soft. "Hades doesn't like me enough, to give you back to me if something happens."  
  
Simon snorted. "As if anyone could deny you anything, sweet one." Lowering his head, he captured Apollo's lips in a bruising kiss, pulling away only when suffocation threatened. "I better not smell even the slightest hint of a muse on you when I get back." He warned.  
  
Apollo pouted, and was rewarded by a light slap on his arse. "Not even a whiff." He promised solemnly. He had almost lost his lover once by thinking that Simon would be like the rest of his former lovers, and not care who he slept with, as long as he always returned to the sentinel's bed in the end. He had been thoroughly dissuaded of this, when upon detecting the sent of a human woman on the jewellery he had been wearing, Simon had moved back to James' temple and had virtually nothing to do with him for two of the longest months of Apollo's infinite existence.  
  
Pulling down Simon's head for another kiss, he pulled away with a yelp when something cold and wet hit him in the back.  
  
"I'll dump both of you in the nearest river if you two don't quit." James growled, brandishing an empty goblet in one hand.  
  
Giggling, Apollo didn't struggle as he felt himself lifted by two strong arms and tossed back onto the bed.  
  
"Sleep well, sweet one." Simon called, as with a flash of black light and a panthers growl, James teleported them from sight.  
  
Sighing despondently, he already missed his lover, Apollo shivered in the warm room. Somehow he knew it wouldn't be as easy a problem to solve as James thought it was. Wishing his abilities would tell him something he could use rather then vague feelings of unease, Apollo tugged Simon's pillow to him. Burying his face in it, the eternally youthful god, not for the first time, cursed the status which kept him stuck in Olympus instead of by his sentinel's side.  
  
~*~ 


	2. Then There Was Friendship

Well after an impossibly long hiatus I'm back... sort of. This chapter has been stuck for months and in the hope that someone out there will be able to help me I've decided to post what I've managed to write so far. It's really depressing, coz chapter three's practically written in my head but I won't write it until I've finished this one. Ok, the problem is; I've got "No" idea how to get Jim's group inside Warlord Sartes's stronghold. I do know that I want their entry to be explained as some sort of official business, but I have no clue what that business could be.   
  
Plz, plz I'm begging you. If anyone out there reads this and has any idea how to solve this painful situation plz Email me and help!!  
  
I just want to say thankyou to Heather, IcyFire, Tlyna, Malantha Knight, Jigglychu and all the others who reviewed my fic. Levittion, my fic is your fic *g* just plz send me the addy so I can visit.  
  
Again I apologise for how long it took to post this and repeat my begging for help!  
  
******************************************************  
  
THEN THERE WAS FRIENDSHIP  
Part 2  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Long auburn curls were pushed back by a languid hand as sapphire blue eyes opened reluctantly, blinking slowly in an effort to clear away the remaining vestiges of sleep.   
  
The slim figure seemed dwarfed by the huge, canopy bed which took up the bulk of the room. The silk sheets hugged his lithe form lovingly as the human born angel briefly considered rising, before dismissing the idea. It was doubtful that his host would be making an appearance anytime soon if the enraged bellowing, which had followed his embarrassing recapture during last night's escape attempt was to be believed. There were no acolytes around to bully him for his natural tardiness, nor were any bad tempered priests sent to roust him from his bed with surmons of blasphemy and doom towards the lazy and slothful when the acolytes failed to succeed. So there was no real reason for him to haul himself from his comfortable nest. Though why Athena, who's time was the night and moon lit glades, required her followers to be up and at their various chores at the crack of dawn had never made sense to him no matter how often it was explained.  
  
Shivering in the slight chill of the room, Blair decided to forgo confronting his natural nemesis, the morning. Pulling the covers over his head he snuggled down into the warm cavern and closed his eyes, fully intending to forget about his current circumstances and enjoy the never-before-his-kidnapping experience of sleeping in late.   
  
It occurred to him briefly that he should not feel as in ease in his kidnappers possession as he did. Indeed it had been this very fact which had been the motivation behind his doomed escape attempt. Nevertheless, ever since he had been forcibly taken from the damaged temple dedicated to Athena which had been his home for the last seventeen years he had felt almost at ease. It was though an oppressive cloud had been surrounding him since his birth. A cloud he had never been aware of until it had slowly lifted the further he got from the temple, until it vanished completely. Even the nightmares and constant sense of forbodding had dissipated upon his arrival at the Warlords stronghold.  
  
Despite being greatly confused by this result, Blair could not help but be relieved by it. His regular, nightly prayers to Athena had done nothing to answer the multitude of questions he struggled to keep at bay. Curiously, he had been sent no vision of what was expected of him and had received no visitation from the Queen of Heaven since he had entered the thick stone walls of the keep.   
  
His captors had refused to answer any questions, no matter how they were addressed, be it politely or in the middle of a screaming tantrum. Aside from daily visit from his host, a meeting in which little was said and seemed to consist of Lord Sartes doing nothing more then study him, occasionally reaching out to touch his hand or stroke his thick auburn curls, before the Warlord would storm from the room in seeming frustration. Disturbed by this behaviour, Blair was at a loss to explain, even to himself why the Warlords actions made him so uncomfortable. At first the visits had frightened him, dreading the next as the current one ended. However when nothing more harrowing then a touch had resulted from these daily visits, he had relaxed over them, accepting them and his hosts strange behaviour, as he had already accepted so much in his short life, as the will of the Gods. Apart from these visits, he had been allowed to occupy his days as he would, as long as he did not try to leave the keeps main building and stayed within eyesight of his guards.  
  
Just as he was slipping into a light doze, the decision to sleep in was taken out of his hands when the door to his room was flung open with enough force to send it slamming against the wall behind it.  
  
Blair shot up, flinging the covers protectively around his shoulder. He stared apprehensively at the thick curtains which surrounded the bed on all sides, blocking the view of the door.  
  
"Blair!" a familiar voice boomed as heavy footsteps approached from outside of the shielding curtains.  
  
Gasping in relief, the young shaman fought to regain control of his racing heartbeat even as he struggled to free himself from the choke hold the bed sheets had taken on him. The curtains were wrenched apart to reveal a huge, bear of a man to the boys wide-eyed, but smiling gaze.  
  
"Ullic!" Successfully freeing his arms, Blair captured one large paw in both his own as the other man used his free hand to tousle his thick curls.  
  
Ullic, Warlord Sartes's nephew and Captain of his personal bodyguard was a huge man. Six and a half feet tall and every inch heavily muscled. His long red hair only partially successfully contained in a loose ponytail reaching to just below his shoulders and was matched with a surprisingly neatly cropped and maintained beard and mustach. Intelligent brown eyes twinkled merrily and full lips which always seemed to be smiling as though Ullic was privy to some joke which no one else knew.  
  
Carrying no weapons, dressed in soft, black leather pants and a loose white shirt adorned with the horse and oak crest of Sartes's family, Ullic gave the impression of being newly risen. Frowning at the sight of Blair's pale features and wide sapphire eyes, he immediately dropped down to sit beside him on the bed with a contrite look.  
  
"'Atch, apologies little one. I keep forgetting that you were raised in a peaceful temple, not this noisy fort like I was."  
  
Blair grinned in relief as the red head reached for him, but was unable to contain the yelp of surprise when Ullic hauled him, blankets and all, into his lap. Unable to forget the teachings of his virginal goddess, Blair sat stiffly on Ullic's lap while the warrior smoothed his curls and stroked his back comfortingly. Fighting the urge to simply relax and enjoy the never before experienced embrace.   
  
In the temple he had been forbidden to allow anyone to see him. Especially any of the many worshippers who came to pay homage to the favourite daughter of Zeus. The result being a lonely childhood, with only himself, the priests and a few acolytes for company. The priests, while wise and willing to teach him as much as he would learn, did not have the time nor the inclination to care for him as a family would. The acolytes on the other hand had mostly, been jealouse of the favour Athena bestowed upon him. Those few that did more then merely tolerate him were more often then not chasing the favour of their beloved deity.  
  
Subsequently, Blair found himself defenceless against the gentle care and seeming affection Ullic had bestowed upon him from the very first. The Captain had been assigned as his primary guard when he had arrived at Sartes's stronghold and had immediately tried to reassure the terrified young man that he was safe. While Ullic refused to divulge why he had been kidnapped, the gentle giant had quickly managed to become Blair's only friend.  
  
Starved for affection, Blair's empathic nature had him turning into the older mans chest like a starving man to food. No one in his eighteen years had shown as much care and consideration towards him as this warrior had in the weeks since his kidnapping.  
  
"Do not fear me little-one. I'm not meant for you. Though the one who is, gets constantly closer. You'll be together soon."  
  
Frowning in confusion to the meaning behind the criptive words, Blair looked up into the older mans face, startled to find Ullic not looking at him, but instead seeming to stare at something only he could see. For the first time since Blair had met him, his brown eyes seemed lost and sad. Not bothering to voice the questions clamouring for attention in his head, they would only be ignored if he asked them anyway, Blair settled back into the other mans embrace. Shivering at the strange thought that he felt safer wrapped in the arms of a virtual stranger, then he ever had in the cold halls of Athena's temple.  
  
~*~  
  
"I'm telling you. Horses were created by the Roman's, as the ultimate in slow torture!"  
  
Jim grinned as Henri Brown's latest complaint reached his sensitive ears. They were about a half days ride from Warlord Sartes' stronghold and Brown seemed intent on complaining about their transportation for every minute of it.  
  
One of a very few sentinels who felt comfortable living in a big city, Brown had raised himself on the rough streets of Eretria. Living by his wits and his skill at the ancient art of thievery, and only surviving because Jim had stumbled across him asleep, hidden in his temple and had seen the potential in the foul mouthed gutter rat. Potential which had been more then reached by the six foot four, dark skinned man currently sitting awkwardly on the back of one of Simon's best thoroughbred war horses. His lack of horsemanship not withstanding.  
  
"Yes, and if that failed they then turn to members of your family to attack the ear drums of the poor prisoners." Brian Rafe shot back, reaching over to correct his sentinel's grip on the reins.  
  
Equally as tall as his sentinel, Brian Rafe was the complete opposite in personality, taste and appearance. In fact they were so different that when Brown had proudly introduced the man as his guide, Jim had wanted to call him a liar. Only their obviously entangled souls had allowed him to believe what they were telling him.  
  
Born to a life of privilege and idleness as great as Brown's was poor, Brian Rafe was the perfect partner to Henri's brash, casual manner. A handsome man, possessing brown hair and eyes, Brian was the youngest son of a powerful city official in Eretria. He and Brown had meet when, on his sixteenth birthday, Rafe had been kidnapped by members of Eretria's thieves guild. Brown, only two years older at the time, had been unable to stand by and watch as the young boy was assaulted while in the care of his kidnappers. Using the only type of honour understood by street toughs, Brown had challenged the leader of Rafe's kidnappers for possession of the boy, eventually defeating the kidnapper after a vicious fight. As in the usual manner between a sentinel and guide pairing who were fortunate enough to meet young, both youth's abilities had developed simultaneously, and without any need for personal trauma or force, they had bonded. In essence a perfect bonding.  
  
"Nope." Brown countered smoothly, shrugging off his guide's hands. "They employed you so you could nag them to death."  
  
Snorting, Rafe ignored him with the ease of long practice. Automatically, Jim's gaze moved to the final person in their party. Riding a dun mare, and talking quietly with Simon, Steven was similar to Jim in looks. Tall with flat, though powerful muscles, he had thick strawberry blond hair which he wore loose, reaching to his shoulders. Like Jim, he had inherited the ice blue eyes and strong jaw from their mutual father, but where Jim's face was expressionless, Steven's face was open and easy going, rarely to seen without a carefree smile.  
  
At just twenty seven years, Steven was old to be unbonded, but guides did not need to bond the same way that sentinels did. Indeed, a guide could go their entire lives and never find the sentinel that they were destined to guide. Unlike the sentinel whose senses would eventually spiral irrevocably out of control until either madness or death resulted.  
  
Jim felt himself frown at the thought. There had been a time, when several of the pantheon had hoped that Steven would prove to be his long awaited guide, but it wasn't to be. He had never felt anything but brotherly affection for the young demi-god. Which was no doubt a relief to both of them. Even so, they both still had to deal with Aprodite's continuous efforts to remedy the situation. Interfering, yet lovable sister that she was.  
  
Gently urging the ebony stallion he was riding closer to the dun mare, Jim grinned at the continuing mock-argument between the young pairing behind him, his brother just in time to see the wistful expression on Stephen's face. He was forcefully reminded that he wasn't the only one missing that vital part of himself.  
  
Evidently Simon had also caught the expression on the young guides face for reaching out easily he grasped hold of Steven's shoulder in a comforting grip. "Trust me lad, we're more trouble then we're worth."  
  
"Oh, I don't think Apollo would agree with you." Steven object lightly.  
  
Joining the conversation, Jim snorted. "No, Apollo would agree. We're nothing but over protective, repressed, anal retentive pains in the arse."  
  
Steven burst into laughter at their often lamented chorus, and Jim sighed. So far Simon had been visited by Apollo every night since they had left Olympus. It wouldn't be until they actually reached Sartes's stronghold that the sentinel and guide pairing would truly be parted. 


End file.
